At the Behest of the Dead

by Long, Timothy W.

  I reached for a vial at the end of my bandolier. The fluid was clear and almost languid. I grabbed the container and popped the top. Moonwater.

  I scrambled around to the other side of the room. Instead of being bound in place, the demon had taken form. It was squat, built like a bulbous toad, and covered in pus filled warts that moved over the surface of his mottled black skin. He had one ragged horn on the left side of his head. The other was snapped halfway along its length on that side of his scorched face. He looked like he’d been dragged over an icicle.

  “Why’d you kill him?”

  “Ask me when I’m feasting on your soul.” He rose to his full height, three legs unfolding one after another, joints pointed backwards so his two back legs looked reversed, and towered over me. He would rip me limb from limb if this didn’t work.

  The night before I had faced a smaller version of this demon, but it was a minor threat compared to this beast. The first demon had been young, with the only thing going for it being speed and a wicked curved blade attached to a third arm. Even armed and armored I was no match for this fresh apparition from hell.

  “Hey asshole, you look parched.” I slashed the air with the contents of the vial. It came out in an arc and spread in a mist that would be the equivalent of spraying acid at a human. When it struck his flesh, he was going to be in a world of pain and much more pliable. I might even be able to figure out a way to bind him. At the very least, Balkir should be able to step in and cast some kind of net over the demon.

  But the fluid evaporated before it could touch his skin.

  Oh shit.

  That stuff was blessed by a saint. It should have sent him cowering, should have had him screaming.

  The room rocked when he howled with laughter. I staggered back around the little table, pressing my back against it. What did I have left that would be any kind of use against this demon? I still had a bit of the blood-mire, but I hadn’t even had a chance to sit down and treat it. It was pretty much useless in its current state. I supposed I could drink it and use myself as a portal, maybe send the demon to wherever it had originated from.

  Balkir appeared at last and he was chanting. He had a large stick in his hand, a wand I hoped. It couldn’t be a staff because warlocks didn’t use such things and expect to be taken seriously. He struck the ground and the room went silent. Felt like the air was sucked right out of it.

  “Demon, attend.”

  The thing turned blazing eyes on Balkir and then there was a flicker … of respect?

  What the hell was going on here?

  “Our game has gone on too long and I have new commands. Capture Phineas and contain him. I will release you from the remainder of our agreement.”

  I turned my gaze on the old man and studied him for the briefest of moments. He stood, feet spread, arms locked around the staff.

  “You killed him?”

  “Not me, fool.” He nodded to the demon with a grin.

  “See how funny you think this is.”

  While crawling out of the demon’s line of sight, I had removed a fresh vial from my bandolier. The bottle sat like a lump of lead, cold as a winter night. I didn’t bother to open it. Instead I crushed the glass, unmindful of the shards digging into my already burned hand.

  I dove forward and found my metal desk again. The demon moved like rasping paper, all sinew and desiccated muscles. I stood up and blew that fine powder in his direction, muttered a primer, and cover my head with my arms. I curled up in a ball as the sulfur and brimstone reacted to the air. The two substances took form and flew at him like an angry ball of wasps.

  The explosion was immense. I had time to strengthen the shield. It bit into my flesh, making blood flow.

  I curled my body, but it still felt like I was dropped from the second story of a building. I couldn’t breathe, and all I heard was a voice in my head screaming as flames washed over the room. Everything in sight went up in the conflagration.

  Balkir was caught up in the explosion, his body thrown against the wall so hard that it had to have snapped bones like twigs. I caught the look of surprise in his eyes, the look of fear, and it send a wave of comfort into my soul. That’s right, you prick. That was me paying you back.

  With the old guy out of the way, at least momentarily, I risked a glance up and saw the demon striding through the fire, distended legs moving fast. Then it was nearly on top of me and I barely get off a new vial, this one filled with maiden’s blood. The glass shattered and the demon came to a staggering halt. He sniffed the air then looked at the red stain. His malevolent eyes went downright melancholy, so I decide to slip outside the room and see if anyone else in this cursed building had caught on that there was a battle happening and I needed help!

  As I fell out the door, I was greeted by a flurry of faces, some inquisitive, some fearful, and some pissed. That last blast probably shook the entire building and I knew they didn’t want any trouble from the local authorities.

  Lukan wasn’t there. Where was his Sir-nosy-ness? He should be here with his spells at the center of the battle for his master, as well as his nose up Balkir’s ass. That told me a lot about Lukan. He either knew about the attempt on my life and had helped, or he was a chickenshit and was in hiding.

  A couple of fresh security guards arrived. One of them dragged his gun out of a holster. It was a big caliber pistol that looked heavy as a lead pipe. He poked his head in the room before we could call a warning and was snatched away. He screamed, but only long enough for his head to be ripped off with a sound that reminded me of fabric being torn. The other guard looked at me, aghast, turned on his heel, and ran. He was the only smart one out of us all.

  I leapt forward, grabbed the door handle, and slammed it shut.

  Among the few faces that didn’t follow the runaway guard was one other I did not expect. Her black hat was drawn up high so the floppy end didn’t cover her eyes. Her robe was also dark and looked like it was woven out of thick black spider silk. There were patterns, but they seemed designed to expose flesh in some areas as much as cover it up in others. It wasn’t sheer, there were just large swaths missing, but it had to be fashionable because she was not about to show up in a frumpy black get-up like me.

  “Hey, Glenda. Long time no see.” I smiled at her in what I hoped was a winning way, but I was all too aware that my face was probably covered in blood and soot.

  “Phineas,” she said by way of greeting. “I should have known.”

  “It’s not my fault! Balkir’s lost it. Son-of a bitch loosed a demon in there.”

  She glared, but at least she didn’t try to turn me into a daisy or cast a shrinking disease on my manhood.

  Glenda blinked and shook her head. “You mean to tell me he tried to bring the building down just now?”

  “That part was me.”

  I scrambled back, trying to get to my feet but getting caught up in my robe instead, which was, much to my annoyance, smoking. That made three in two days. I should just buy stock in Robes-R-Us.

  The door! If I could get to it maybe I could reverse one of the glyphs and keep the demon on the other side for a few minutes. That would give us enough time to wait for reinforcements. Maybe a cannon would show up, or a small tactical nuclear weapon.

  That hope went like the grin on my face. The door didn’t exactly shatter. The flame that rushed through it burned the heavy wood to a cinder, and then kept going through the opposite wall. A howl flooded out of the room, and the demon came right after it. Smashed through the wall and took out another lab. He stumbled to a skidding halt and went over with thrashing limbs.

  Guards flooded in the room with the demon and opened up with some serious firepower. They had silver nets, shock guns, and a priest. Christ, where did he come from? He dashed in the room with his hand raised, chanting words to bind the creature.

  “Draw him away. I’ll check the old man. Maybe he has something we can use against the thing. He was waving a staff around earlier.”

&nb
sp; “Balkir with a staff? Have you gone completely mental?” Glenda yelled over the pandemonium.

  “Hey, they brought me here. I didn’t ask for this shit!”

  The demon screeched as the guards let loose with everything they had. It hit the ceiling and went through. The men pursued, shooting into the hole it left behind. Wonderful, if it got behind us I was toast. I wished I had a mountain to hide behind, a gallon of saints’ blessed water to soak in, or a herd of Xhallix from the third ward to lay the bastard out.

  Glenda took to the air and punched through the hole. She spun and lighting arched across the ceiling.

  The demon smashed through the floor at the other end of the hallway. He chased his tail in terror because it was coated in an icy substance and smoking, or misting. I wasn’t sure about the physics involved.

  Glenda stood bravely to the side and pointed at the puddle of liquid. Flashes glimmered in the tiny pool and then pulled wisps of power from its surface. She yanked her arm back with the little wand and then whipped it forward. The blue arc struck the demon and threw him across the hallway, then sent him smashing through the flimsy wall at the end, then the wall after that. Wires and tubes disgorged from the wounded plaster and then fizzled in the afterglow of the blast.

  “Keep him busy!” I called, in what I hoped was my best action hero voice. She stared at me like I was a mentally challenged dork and rolled her eyes.

  I dashed into the room and located Balkir. He lay in a heap of robes, forehead leaking blood into his eyes. It ran down his aristocratic hooked nose and onto lips that had sneered at me on more than one occasion.

  I took in my remaining potions and pulled out a nasty black one. I held it away from my face as I broke the wax seal. A voice called in the room, pulled at my brain, made me want to scoop it out and show it to the teacher. But I tipped the thick fluid over the hurt Balkir. It slipped out and fell onto his chin. Then it went to work, creating a web over his mouth that evaporated a second or two later. I was already muttering words, high black magic that I wasn’t supposed to know. Good thing I used to read a lot.

  I hauled him into a sitting position and slapped him. He gazed at me with a dazed look, eyes rolling back into his head. He tried to mutter a spell but it didn’t come out, thanks to the web. He’d be able to speak but I doubted the words would be friendly.

  “Asshole. Tell me why you had a demon kill him!”

  “So young. So very young in the ways of our kind. A few decades of life. What is that against the millennia I have lived?”

  God I hated it when they start talking about the old days like they were part of some exclusive club of old farts.

  “You can’t understand the draw of more power, more more more. And when he found the piece, I had to have it. But he was wily, that one. Oh, he was so smug about it. Said it was too much, so he hid it. But I knew he would be calling you back soon. He all but said you were the only one that would comprehend.”

  A blast echoed out in the hallway, then a scream and an explosion that shook the building again. Why did I agree to come here in the first place?

  “I don’t have until tomorrow to hear the end of this boring ass conversation. Get to the point! How do I stop the demon?”

  “You can’t.” His head leaned forward and blood ran from his nose. It appeared that I had done damage after all.

  Screams from the hallway then a howl as the demon fought. A shape sailed past the door. A human form that wasn’t doing so voluntarily. It smacked into a wall with a sickening thud. If that demon came in, I was tempted to either make for the roof and grab my fork, or jump out the window.

  I was tired of being a nice guy. The carved ivory tusk was in my hand before I knew it and I press the tip against his shoulder, then harder until it broke skin. It sank in a half an inch before I twisted it. I had his complete and undivided attention now. I could tell because he screamed in agony, eyes rolling around in wide open sockets. He looks like he was about to pass out so I slapped him again – harder this time.

  “How do I stop him!”

  “You can’t!” His breath came out hot and fetid. Blood flecked spittle drooled down his paper white skin. His cheeks were a patchwork of wrinkles, and grey whiskers poked out in every direction.

  Then the tusk dug in again and his eyes went livid. Words formed on his lips but nothing came out. The silence potion wouldn’t hold forever and I wondered if I would have to kill him before I got my answers. I was all too happy to drag the sharp blade across his throat and watch him bleed out before my eyes before the demon came back and consumed me.

  Wait. The demon was enraged to begin with. He completed his task and was given a prize. It would have to be a good enough offering to get him to leave his comfortable world of magma and twisted creatures.

  “What did you promise the demon for the contract?”

  “This isn’t some silly movie where I reveal my plans simply because you have me at your mercy. Unless you intend to kill me in cold blood, me, the head of the league, I recommend you release the spell. It can’t have long to fade anyway. Few more moments, I should say.”

  “Asshole.” Then I decked him. A full from the shoulder punch that knocked his head to the side. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head and his mouth went slack. My hand and wrist howled in pain from the strike.

  Balkir fell to the side and spit blood and at least one tooth.

  Son of a bitch, the demon wanted me and I gave him the perfect catalyst. My life blood--was that all one of those things cost nowadays? The wretched soul of a tired warlock? And me, the fool for falling for such a trick. Ours were pathetic.

  As if he could read my revelation, the wall near the doorway exploded inward and I was thrown to the ground. The demon rose up on two front legs. His frog like head darted back and forth, a tongue that was split along the middle rolled out and tested the air. The smell the demon emitted was terrible, like old garbage left to rot in the sun.

  “Destroy him!” Balkir screamed through broken teeth. I wanted to spin and kick him.

  Glenda came in behind the creature and loosed another blast of witch fire. It arched into the room and slammed into the demon full force, shoving it across the area and out the window. He wore a look of shock as it fell. His feet scrambled for the window, but they only touched shattered glass and it fell into the night.

  “Glenda, here!”

  She rushed to my side, concern etched on her face, and I almost felt a moment of gratitude. She really was lovely, with dark hair whisking about her face. She looked almost ethereal with that ageless skin and luminous blue eyes that had made me stop in my tracks more than once. For a moment I thought she was going to hug me, but she went to the old man instead. She stroked his face and whispered his name.

  Oh.

  “He’s the killer, Glenda!”

  “What?”

  “The demon killed Salazar for him and he offered me as a prize.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  The demon’s howl from below made us both look up. The building shook again and I could only imagine what it was doing to the ground floor as it tore its way back inside. I hoped there weren’t any people down there to get in its way. Car alarms screamed in the night. I should’ve gotten on my pitchfork and run, but I couldn’t leave these people alone.

  Then again, what good was I? I was exhausted, I’d used most of my powerful potions, and I didn’t have any last minute spells up my sleeve. I was afraid that Balkir was going to win. So I should’ve killed him then, denied him the satisfaction of seeing me scream as the demon devoured my flesh and took my soul. Maybe I could’ve disguised the old man as me, switched clothes. I almost laughed at the absurdity, then my head snapped up and I locked eyes with Glenda.

  “All those times you threatened to turn me into a snake or a frog, were you just kidding?”

  “Sort of. I mean, I could transfer your essence to an animal and let you live like that for a short time, but the spell is just an old trick from whe
n I was a kid. Most witches and warlocks – it doesn’t work on them.”

  The floor rattled beneath me.

  “So you could transfer me into the old fart here if I wanted to.”

  “Yes, but he would just fight it off. He only need say a word and you would …”

  “I silenced him.”

  “Do not listen to his lies!” Balkir roared. He rolled to the side and came up with the staff. He aimed in my direction and managed to utter a single word, but he could not complete it.

  “Does he look sane?” I tried to reason.

  “He looks mad, and I would be too if I were to be silence. Balkir is the head of the league now!”

  Balkir tried again to utter a spell. His eyes were livid, and when nothing came out of his mouth he threw the stick at me. I leaned to the side then threw my arms up in the air while looking pointedly at Glenda. She wasn’t impressed.

  “I don’t know why, but he wants me dead! Glenda, would I lie to you? Come on. Why in the world would I come back now and try to kill Balkir? Does it make any sense?” She stared at me then shook her head, as if she were trying to make up her mind.

  “Lies from a charlatan!” Balkir roared and tried to get to his feet.

  Boards rattled as the demon, presumably tired of the ground floor, made his way back toward us.

  “Think about it, Glenda. What else would he kill Salazar like that? Did you see his body? His chest was ripped open and his heart was gone! What can do something like that?”

  “Not a demon. Salazar was too strong.”

  “This one is different. Blood, it’s after blood. It had Salazar’s and now it has mine.”

  She stared at me and I saw something click.

  “What’s the plan to stop the demon?” The wind outside the broken window picked up and Glenda had to shout to be heard.